Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories
Slowly, the Aab crawled forward. One inch, two, three, six, a dozen. It
was only five feet from him now, and in the shadow of the Devil's Egg
again.
"That's it. Come on. Closer."
_I am afraid of you. Let me go. Let me go get the others._
The Aab suddenly braked its advance by digging its fore-claws into the
sand.
"But you don't want to go back to the others." Monk's lips quivered as
he spoke. His words, to human ears, would have been unintelligible.
"You want to stay here. You want to come closer to me."
His attempt at telepathic hypnotism brought a small, silent reply:
_I must call the others. It is my duty to call the others. The others
are hungry._
A shudder passed through Monk's hot, tight body. A few minutes ago he
had delighted in the coolness of the desert. Now the heat seemed to be
pressing down upon him like the fiery hand of Satan.
"You're a scout, aren't you?" he asked. "You find food for the others.
You go back and tell the others what you've found?"
_I tell the others. The others are hungry._
"But you're hungry, too. Why share what you've found? Why not take it
all for yourself?"
No reply appeared in Monk's mind. He continued:
"Come closer. Look at me. You're hungry. You're too hungry to waste
time calling the others."
The Aab came closer. It passed out of the shadow of the Devil's Egg.
It came to within two feet of Monk. It crossed the small dune. Slowly,
slowly, its legs labored through the thin sand. At last it stopped some
six inches from Monk's face.
* * * * *
It appeared immense, like a lumbering, scaly giant from the planet's
billion-year-ago past.
It rubbed its claws together, threateningly. Its black mouth opened,
closed, opened, closed. Its needle tongue twisted like a silver snake.
_I am hungry_, came the thought. _So very hungry. But I should call the
others._
Combined fear and hope hung over Monk like an omnipresent shower of
fire and ice. Sweat dripped into his hot eyes, obscuring his vision.
He opened his mouth.
"Look," he said. "You are hungry." He wriggled his tongue as a
fisherman would cast out bait.
_Hungry, hungry, hungry_, came the tiny voice.
An eternity passed. Monk's heart was a monstrous hammer pounding in
the depths of his body and in the depths of the planet. The Aab was
motionless save for the restless, uncertain moving and blinking of its
eyes.
Then its forelegs lifted. It drew itself forward. One inch, two, three,
four, five, six.
Monk beckoned the creature on with his wriggling, twisting tongue.
"That's it!" he telepathed. "Closer, closer!"
The Aab entered Monk's open mouth.
_Crunch!_
Monk chewed and spat and chewed and spat. He grimaced hideously. He
coughed and choked. The Aab tasted like a combination of paprika and
oil. He thought he was going to retch, but did not.
And it was over.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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